


When will you realise your actions have consequences

by stainlesssteelsexappeal (Chinmychangas)



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Anxiety, Bad decisions - all of them, Carries on Close to Episodes 4 and 5 of Prime Season 2, Emotional Constipation, F/M, Female Pronounts, Mental Health Issues, Other, Poor Anger Management, ROBO organ harvesting, organ harvesting, plot divergence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-07-27 21:55:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20053138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chinmychangas/pseuds/stainlesssteelsexappeal
Summary: The reader becomes way in over her head when the first thing that motivates her in decades... is to help a giant robot.It's probably more realistic than getting bitten by a radioactive spider, but hey beggars can't be choosers.At least you have a giant sashaying robot as your friend, right?(This isn't going to be a long story but I wanted to write something.Set during and after the events of Operation Bumblebee in Season 2 (Episodes 4 and 5) about the stupid ex’con, and not about the very good content and relationship between Ratchet and Bumblebee which I would die for - just saying.)





	1. In the centre of the mirror

Today was a day like any other day. Boring, monotonous, the same old shit like yesterday, and the day before, and the entire month before that too, and you were perfectly ok with that. Sort of.

Naturally, being in the role of a merc hired by MECH wasn’t exactly supposed to be that. You would have been asked to grab your gear and go at a moments notice and at the behest of Silas - the guy who ran the operation.  
This isn’t the military, you weren’t suddenly asked to drop down and give 50 like this was Full Metal Jacket and Silas being Sgt Hartman , but the fact of the matter was that trying to keep your head under the radar of the pesky US Government, who made life a little bit harder for you to operate in the open had kept you on your toes. You couldn’t kick back and take in the sights while staying in the same place, but if someone else was driving the plane and telling you what to do then you were more than happy to comply.

You had woken up at the crack of dawn, not sure how to be feeling sleeping on a cold hard unforgiving surface. The warehouse slash open aired living quarters that you were staying at for another day for god knows how long for, was long disused., The desaturated brown and slate gray of the place was like the colour of a stale chocolate bar still in its wrapper - as welcoming as the musty smell that perforated the entire building.

The duffle bag and flat lilo provided to you to give some comfort from the concrete ground alleviated some of the misery, but you were glad to be awake amidst some of the other sleeping mercenaries staying at the base. There were more, but Silas liked having everyone spread around the vicinity in case of any emergency.  
The affront to god sentinel that stood half finished on the other side of the warehouse almost watching like some kind of tyrant, gave you a serious case of the heebie jeebies as you turned your back on it. Not sure if this gave you a higher case of nerves considering your stupid brain was thinking _ what if it moved when I’m not looking _, but you decided to kill that train of thought before it got any more ridiculous.  
You guessed that people cobbling up spare parts to make a giant functioning robot that could change shape felt science fiction to you. Even if the company you worked for was called MECH.

You had gotten up early and started stretching, because god knowing if you didn't get the hell up and do some sort of physical exercise at the crack of dawn meant that you would get cramps for a sudden onslaught of physical activity and you WILL suffer for the entire day. Or your body would finally fall apart from sleeping on hard surfaces. One or the other.  
Curse your magnesium deficient body.

Was this how you wanted to spend every day for the rest of your life? Your brain asked the hard question the 5th time that month, seeing as nobody else in the room was awake. It rolled inside your head with a loud annoying noise like a marble on a wooden floor.  
And you ignored it, you let it roll away and pretend that the question never arose.

You let your mind wander as you did some light stretches before it slowly devolved into star jumps and quiet jogging on the spot, thinking about how you had been with this company for almost 4 years.

Ah yes, you remember the time where your parents had begged you, why not go to University and complete a different degree that you might be interested if this one didn’t suit you well? They saw how miserable you were when you finished your shift and fell face first on your bed every day of the week.  
Why not go study, see the sights the country, nay the world has to offer. Do something with your life?

Having spent a few years working in godforsaken retail, not knowing how much more personality from entitled bastards you could take. People asking if they could have a free item since there was no barcode on said item, and you are unable to decide if the faulty cash register would finally feel your wrath or the person in front of you when you decided to punch a fist sized hole in retaliation.

The moment you had finally decided to do something about it was after a particular hard shift, having to clean up dog shit off of an isle at 8pm on a Monday. You held the mop in hand, pretending everything was fine, trying to turn off the simmering anger in your veins by suppressing your emotions and having accidentally slapped a damp mop over something solid that would have been easier to clean up dry.  
Paying dearly for your lack of concentration on such a simple task was bothering you more than it should.  
You stared at the mess, and it almost felt like it was staring back (the fucking audacity), and you moved your mop and it smeared the mess everywhere like a deranged painter and you realized with a tone of defeat - that this was your life and it’ll be like this if you don’t do something about it.  
You ARE the shit - in the worst possible context of the situation.

You thought that such a depressing experience cleaning an aisle would placate the desperation turn frustration with the cognizance that you could do something else with your life, but it made things worse and absolutely did not relieve any anger when a customer would waste your time and you’d grit your teeth in a smile so deranged you were sure enamel cracked.

Honestly, spending time incarcerated for first degree murder stabbing someone with a shit covered mop would be a welcome change of pace than retail, but on second thought you’d think it’d be just be as bad with the solid isolation, and you tried to calm yourself from jumping to wild fantasies - even if they weren’t happy.

You calming down came hours after an incident where you had barely contained rage from a pigheaded customer, and you pretended that bloodlust and anger wasn’t the first emotion that you experience on a daily basis .  
The hollow feeling not knowing what to do with yourself came after.

No hopes, no aspirations, no dreams.

Nothing.

And somehow the irony had been lost on you - call it a curse or a stroke of genius, you had found an ad one late night somewhere on the dodgiest part of the internet at best advertising the position of administration, a proverbial bullet to the head of standing on your feet for a full day cashing out items for customers that spent every waking second rubbing your frayed nerves with a serrated knife to the end.

Now you had the opportunity to sit on your ass and get abused on the phone and email by new employers and shitty staff members.

“Travel the world, sight see and meet new interesting people!” The ad almost dripped with mockery.  
“Haha, and what, kill them?” You stupidly mused at the brevity, the fakeness, and the spartan content of the ad, not knowing how right you would be. It was so fake, it had to be dodgy! But you placed it anyway, just to see what would happen. If you accidentally hired a deep web hit man to burst through your door a second later and take you out, you’d consider it a win/win situation.

When you actually had a call back two days later, you were admittedly shocked that this wasn’t a code word for a Procurer for a brothel. And when you were hired, you felt like your actual age, alive and happy for the first time in a long while.

What started as an admin role, you had quickly but surely climbed the ranks from payroll officer, to admin, to mail room clerk, to inventory control to ‘i’m giving you a toy gun as a placeholder’ merc to now official ‘we can trust you a better to hold a rifle do NOT fuck this up’ merc.  
You may or may not have contributed your learning to watching a lot of how to videos online in preparation on your promotion.

You had searched through your duffel bag for a mock chocolate protein bar which you had tried eating with as much gusto as you could with the taste and texture of congealed glue, stuffing it in your face as you felt your limbs limber up from the stretching and your jaw ache from chewing.  
You had not much else to do, and you knew some of the other mercs would start to wake soon starting the day, so after you threw on a jacket from nearby your duffel bag, you took a walk around and have a close look at the giant ass half built robot that was missing an arm and a head on the other side of the warehouse.

It looked ugly, unfinished, and from a memory not long ago from a meeting, this whole thing would be transported to a more discreet place somewhere further in the forests far outside of Jasper.

“Isn’t she a beauty,” Came a sudden voice from somewhere on your left, deep and smooth like melted chocolate, and you almost choked on your food not knowing if the surprise got you, or if it was the concept calling the ugly behemoth beautiful.

“I didn’t know giant robots fit in the same category as pronouns for ships and boats,” You replied dryly before turning to your left, and realise that Silas had been standing nearby you, looking at you cold and unyielding as you stand awkwardly for a moment or two trying not to flounder.

You attempted to dispel the awkwardness by continuing to run your mouth you let out a dumb smile, chocolate stuck between some of your teeth from the protein bar you were still carrying in your right hand.  
“As the only female here, I’m kind of flattered you’d try to make this in my image, but I think the proportions are all wrong. For starters” You start, hiding a shit eating grin and turning around as you saw Silas close his eyes thinking the exact words ‘_god fucking damn it_’ before letting out a sigh, you pointing a protein bar at the general direction of the robot.  
“It doesn’t have a head.’  
“You’ll be up on the field this time instead of on base.” He cut in ignoring what you thought was your very funny quip  
“I think you’ll enjoy seeing the sources that we’ve been taking the designs from.” Silas replied in an equal dry tone that could compete with wall plaster and win.  
You swallowed audibly.

You remembered being on base when diagnostic scans and a slapdash surgery was being prepared on a metallic creature ten times your size in another room with passing glimpses. You had taken lookout with some of the other staff, and therefore missed the entire battle down in the control room, although you remember definitely feeling it.  
The tremors were so intense you thought your whole body was a magic eight ball being shaken intermittently by a child.

“You might be able to choose a head design that you might like,’ He responds with something in his voice that you can’t quite place, the stinging comment taking you back to earth. It was like a docile cat had now decided to go for your eyes and take them out with the sudden heel face turn, but you decide that Silas was being very clear that ‘we’re not friends and I’m tolerating you as much as I’m paying you which is still quite a lot;.

You watch him walk away, almost disturbingly quiet, and you turn your head away back to the sleeping area to get things sorted. More of the mercs were waking up and packing their gear, and you have a feeling that the giant Pygmalion Silas built himself was hitching a ride as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta we die like men hope you enjoyed this fic so far!


	2. You just watch where you fall

It took several hours for the giant mech to be loaded up in seperate pieces on different transport vehicles for optimum secrecy. You had deduced that this was because it was at its prototype stage, and the last thing that you had thought MECH wanted to do was to have some volatile section of the mech explode or the highway police asking why a giant ass robot was standing upright and being carried across the state of Nevada. 

The ride out of the warehouse was a welcome breath of fresh air as you clamoured into the front seat of a jeep and watched the surroundings. THe industrial, broken down warehouse was becoming a distant memory as you played back the meeting at the back of your head.

_ You are tasked to set a trap for one of the Alien life forms… and steal a section called a T Cog.. _

You were holding a pb&j sandwich in one hand, staring out the window watching the built up surroundings start to smattering out into ramshackled houses and dwellings on the outskirts of the built up city.

“You alright? You’ve been quiet lately,” came the voice on your right from the mercenary driving the Jeep.

You jumped a little being pulled out of your reprieve and took a giant bite out of instinct to show that you were still lucid, and noticed the awkward silence of you trying to chew fast to answer his question.  
“Hey now, don’t choke,” He laughed and you swallowed painfully before you responded.

“Yeah, I’m alright,” You started, looking at the driver.

“This is the first time I’ve been sent out on a mission for like… aliens. I still don’t believe what I’m hearing. Have you been on these missions, Colby? Is this real? Or was there something in the dust back at the warehouse?” You ask, continuing to chew on your sandwich and looked out ahead of you.

Colby, a middle aged lean, dark haired man who seemed to be one of the lucky few that seem to age gracefully as he gets older scratches the stubble on the bottom of the chin and laughed at your questions.

“Hmm… well supposing you’re being on one of the missions one right now, I guess I can fill you in about past missions. You know how MECH is very watertight about this information.

It’s a need to know basis in terms of how information is put out to the rest of the men. So.. they’re introduced in teams,” He starts, and you nod, pausing your bite to ask another question.

“So the guys who’ve already been on previous missions were all slowly introduced to the concept of us stealing technology from aliens,” You started, feeling a little bit unsettled at what was transpiring.

“Mhmm, we had first encounter with the second kind on our mission to nick the D.I.N.G.U.S all those months ago. I was in one of the cars that buckled over the edge after a knock from those aliens, it was a miracle I even got out of there alive,,,” Colby continued, his unchanging voice peppered with bitterness and anger

You stayed quiet in your seat until he continued.

“So… that was our first sighting. We were told under strict supervision that we were not to disclose ANY information whatsoever to anyone else that was wondering why we received so many casualties. And I guess Silas knowing what we were going to get our hands into, organised it that way. 

Eventually everyone found out what had actually happened instead of a sudden skirmish with government agents, you can’t keep the lid on this stuff around your men for too long, especially if you’re hiring them.”  
“So… you got to see them the second time too?” You asked, trying to steer the conversation back on track.

“Yes, this time there was a new one that entered the fray,”  
“Wait wait wait, hold on a second. How many are there in total?”   
Colby took a moment before answering,

“I’ve seen 7… but there are more,” He replies

This blows your fucking mind.

“How.. how are they like?” You started, noticing his keen pick up on your change of demeanor, and you covered it up.

“You know, so… if I see them, I know that they’re not shapeshifters or something,” YOu reply hastily, and Colby lets out a bark of laughter.

“Don’t worry kid, you’ll know when you see them. Big, ugly and made of metal” He lets out a laugh and you scrunch your face in a light tone of annoyance when he does so.  
“Oi, you call me that and I’m gonna have to start calling you old man,” You retort, and he gasps in mock shock,   
“You would _ never,” _He responds, placing a hand on his chest as you let out a small laugh, diffusing the tension.

“I remember there was a hubbub about that...something about Arachnid?, I was too ill to partake in the mission, Silas had to find a replacement,” You started.

You had come down with some awful flu that had you bedbound, and couldn’t move for more than a week.  
“Ah.. yes that’s right. I remember something about that.” Colby nods as he concentrates on the road.

You were glad you weren’t around that. You didn’t want to see ANY sort of spider sounding alien, even if they were cute and fuzzy and gave warm hugs.

“And the last time… what happened again? There was a … we had one strapped down did we?”   
“Sure did… that’s where we gained information about the organic.. Er, mechanical makeup of the aliens,” Colby responded.

You gathered that whatever metal alien existed, it didn’t waltz in and curtsy asking for Silas to operate on it, and you finished your sandwich before you took out another one trying to diffuse what was running in your head and the bad feeling that was settling in your stomach.

Granted, you knew what you were getting yourself into when you decided to participate with the Mercenaries. You told yourself it was a higher pay grade, the amount of cash some of the more experienced mercs were getting could buy all 5 Autobot alt mode models twice over with their yearly salary. _ Especially _the Camaro.

You were sort of ok doing something very illegal - stealing technologies from other companies in the US, the Government - it was all sort of like sticking it to the man on a very surface level thinking without delving into the ethics of it.

  
But cannibalising Living Aliens for their parts like some 21st century Burke and Hare ghoul was on a whole other astronomical level wrong, it made the insides of your stomach roll and you took another bite trying to quell the uneasiness that was settling in you.

How stupid were you for not realising this before...

A part inside of you was thinking that maybe… maybe you were the bad guys. That you were wearing the skull and crossbones emblem on your hat and you were definitely not going to be spared any mercy when the metal alien hand of retribution delivered justice by slapping you flat onto the pavement.

Did these aliens even have a term for mercy?

Colby noticed you going quiet and tucking into your second sandwich.

“What… you starving or something?”  
“One for lunch, and the other for dessert,” You replied and continued eating. Breakfast felt like eons ago from that glue stick of a protein bar, and you continued munching in silence.

Colby gave you a small smile as you processed the information in your mind.

Not long after you had arrived late afternoon near the rocky outcrop somewhere around the outskirts of the local town of Jasper.

You had jumped out, stretched your sore legs with a dozen other mercs in other vehicles, and watched as one of the mercs specialising in engineering had started setting up what seemed to be some sort of node on a stilt in a rocky outcrop. 

Designated to unpack weapons with Colby, you had spied none other than the helicopter carrying Silas with his right hand man.

“Is that… what’s his name. Riglar?”  
“Yeah… Silas’ ‘boyfriend’,” He hush whispered back at you and you raised your eyebrow at him.

Having been around a bunch of cis men was bound to have some sort of ingrained homophobia rear its ugly head , but you were surprised to see him shaking his head.

“This guy loves Riglar so much, he has him around piloting, driving, being his right hand man for every project. I heard Silas got him a rolex for his birthday,” He continued at your silence as you hefted some of the heavier guns off.

“You sound a little jealous. Maybe if you ask nicely, you could have a menaga-a-t-OOF” You start, your sentence cut off in the middle as Colby shoves the gun into your unsuspecting hands as he goes to unpack more guns.

_ Guess that’s what happens when you do political science instead of an engineering degree - you miss out on the fancy gifts, _ You muse to yourself as you place the guns on a rack out of the truck.

“You know you got a real smart mouth on you sometimes,” Colby replied, and you decided to come back around with a reply.  
“Yeah well,.. I wasn’t gifted with a smart brain so I gotta have something smart,``you reply, cringing internally at the badly formed sentence but felt easier when you saw the older man laugh.

As long as you made someone laugh, they couldn’t be that angry at you.

The playful banter was cut short when a loud static and bright blast illuminated the area for what you were already doing. Hiding behind the rocky outcrop you hadn’t seen what had happened, but you were given the signal by one of the other mercs to move into position

You had grabbed a large welding iron as you had been previously instructed and told to wait as you felt the earth shake so much you weren’t sure if you were going to have functional knees after this.

A zipping and alternating noise, like a Roland Vocoder fluctuating in pitch and wavelength seemed to be emitting from behind the rock alongside earth shaking footsteps was making the back of your neck bead with sweat.

You barely were able to breath holding onto one portion of the welding iron, your mind a blur of thoughts of how this alien looked like, arms beginning to strain at the weight.

And before you had any thought of what else could transpire, you were given the signal to run. Run? You mean run away right? 

You regretted turning the corner of the rocky outcrop with half a dozen mechs rounding the corner with armed shock weapons alongside you that were heavier than half their body weights, with you heading to the engineers.

There was a terrific bang that made hearing hard, and almost in slow motion, you saw… this… humanoid thing falling like a cut tree, and you stopped dead in your tracks.

It was huge, roughly the size of a triple story house plated in all the most interesting ways, and so impossibly yellow. You had no idea if this was how all the other aliens looked like, but something about the bright cyan optics that zipped around, contorting its face from confusion to fear to absolute pain when the electrical shock ran through it seemed to burn your heart with shame and make you feel sick. 

It scratched, _ clawed _ at itself when it tried to get the _ oh god pain make it stop _ feeling go away and something about that seemed so cruel you felt like you were going to be sick.

Rilgar had started talking to Silas, which you didn’t seem to catch since everything else seemed to blend out into white noise including what you thought was a jet engine somewhere in the distance until your hearing came back from the blast and heard Silas speak.

“Work briskly.”

You had noticed only that you stopped running when you were being barked at by a merc to continue your run as you approached the engineer with the welding iron.

At once, with almost startling precision and efficiency like a seasoned medic operating for the nth time, the engineer that you had stood beside had begun welding an incision on the side of the alien’s approximation of a rib, and you stood transfixed. 

Your mind tried to reel away, but the closeness made you pick up everything in clarity, how scuffed and paint stripped some areas of the metal was. How dead it seem to just lie there.

Did you just fucking kill an alien? You were breaking out in a cold sweat watching this thing that looked so cute sprawled out in a horrific manner on the ground while you were organ trafficking god knows what.

You steadied your breathing, trying to focus as the engineer beside you continued the work.

Did this robot alien thing come from the Moon? Out of space? Were you being subjected to a ton of radiation? Or Moon dust? God you’d probably die of laughter finding out you had been subjected to a dangerous amount of radiation or blood poisoning with the Universe backhanding you the greatest karma that had ever been dealt in humankind.

You had been pulled out of your panicky haze the moment that the engineer to your right, what was his name, Adam? Matt? Whoever pulled out the T Cog, about the size of your torso but weighed about a kilo - incredibly light.

It was passed onto Rilgar, and you booked it back into the jeep as you stored the welding iron in the back. You jumped into the driver's seat as Colby had jumped in the passenger seat and you turned the ignition on, jammed the stick into drive, and slammed on the accelerator.

  


The other mercs were soon following and you kept in a convoy before breaking off and taking your turns to go back to the new base. You were holding onto the steering wheel white knuckled and staring straight ahead on the road, the drive silent.

Your mind replayed over the scene with the lifeless body of the bot lying there as you were complicit in its demise.

“Hey, are you crying?” Came the poor attempt at comforting you from Colby, when you realise tears had dropped onto your lap by their own will.

“Y-Yeah,” You reply, your hands shaking if you did so much as relinquish your death grip on the steering wheel.  
“It’s just adrenaline, I’ve had an experience like this before,” You reply with an awkward laugh, but Colby doesn't seem to buy it as you exhale a shaky breath, and you wipe the tears that have mercifully stopped flowing.

“When I used to work in retail, there was some guy trying to get money from the cashier. I threw a Teflon pan at his head and it clocked him out for the night. I couldn’t stop shaking for the entire day after,” You lied, trying to breathe as you told the story.

A silence settled in the jeep before you hear Colby speak.

“I thought you were going to say that it was an alien who held the attempted robbery,” He replied. The stupidity of the situation made you burst out into laughter, attempting to try and not hiccup from the crying.

It was only until you arrive at your destination, you sneaked out from inventory restocking around the empty warehouse in the forest away from prying eyes and the rest of the mercenaries.

And only then you were able to take a break, reflect on what you had taken part of, and burst into bitter tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Silas’s hair is so big - he keeps so many secrets in it
> 
> I made up some head canons and another character to make it a bit more interesting hopefully? I think its cute that there’s this one guy doing everything for Silas in the series because he trusts him so much and is the only voiced merc so far lmao 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


	3. You’ve got a disconnection with Yourself

The night mercifully swept over the new MECH quarters, and you felt yourself slipping into an uneasy sleep. You slept shallowly, fragments of memories swimming to your consciousness and back again. You tried to grasp at them when you started to wake in the morning, but it was all futile, letting them go like dandelion tufts in the wind.

Dressing up quickly in the dark and decided to lie back down after a few stretches in the early morning, mulling over the events of yesterday, and you started to reach a conclusion.

In the harsh reality of things, you realised that it was a folly to start showing any sympathy to the aliens, lest your emotions appear to any of the other mercenaries about the realisation of the company’s cruelty and doubt arises. If you had to count on your fingers the friends you had in this workplace, you’d be left at… 0. Unless you were counting people that talked to you, then it would be around two, including Silas, and then Colby. If it were people that tolerated you? Then it would be the rest of the company.

This was dangerous, because any affiliation, or anyone giving you the wrong idea on what side you were truly on without a friend to cover your back could lead you in deep trouble.

But it was getting hard to relate to anyone. All the other mercs were in the same age groups and talked about whatever the hell men in the age range of late thirties to late sixties were interested in. It wasn’t that you didn't like any of them, it was just _ so damn hard _to connect to any of them when they had no intention of reciprocating the friendship back.

“Hey, you awake yet?” Came the voice of Colby, who gave you a sharp prod in your knee and you jolted from your daydream, perching up on your elbows.

“Yeah… yeah I’m awake,” You replied sleepily as you return to lying and staring at the ceiling in the twilight of the morning, the low murmur of the other mercs waking up and talking in the chilly morning.

“... That doesn’t sound like the normal you. Where’s the pep in your step?” He asked, being annoying, and you respond with a giant fake huff and groan of frustration.

“Jesus Colby! It’s not even 6 am and you’re jumping up my fucking ass. Did Silas send you especially for this? Is this your role for the entire day?” You accuse without so much as moving your chin down to look at him as threatening as you possibly can.

He gives you a shrug and you weakly raise fist pretending to threaten him with it to which he grabs it and pulls you up.

You’re slightly taken aback at the reaction, thinking that he was going to pretend to cower from you, but you re-focus and he throws you your balaclava inset with goggles.

“Come on, we’ve got a long day setting up the mecha ahead of us. I suggest you get a move on,” He starts off, and you stand up, folding the cot where you slept and starting the day.

\---

Well into the afternoon, you had taken your position on the floor holding a rifle, and keeping an eye on your surroundings. Apparently some of the alien robots could just waltz in if they so much as heard of the operations going on in this warehouse. Your eyes swept over the scene.

The giant robot with a T-Cog inserted into it, some sort of robot version of a heart transplant robbery gone wrong was spluttering and stuttering, and you watched it briefly before looking around the room.

The mask that you were wearing - a balaclava that had a special goggles slipped into it.  
It detected anything that had a heat signature and could bring colour images in night vision, which was proving to be helpful during the darkness that the warehouse was bringing. You spotted Silas talking briefly to Rilgar. 

Silas could convey so much with so few words, his expressions were not over the top, but it reinforced that his words were precious to those who were close. He was currently in a long conversation with Rilgar, who was patiently nodding and working away at a console nearby, and you looked away.

The universe sensing that you were starved for a friend seemed to have altered your surroundings,because whenever you looked you could see that your coworkers were chatting with each other, standing in a small group talking about something at a volume that was too low to hear.

_ Goddamnit. _

You bit your lip irritably and clenched at your gun, continuing to stay at your post nearby a helicopter parked at the mouth of the open entrance that Silas used to arrive at the scene of the intergalactic crime.

God… you wondered if that robot was still there, lying exposed to the elements. If it had recollection of its events, if it could even get home, if it’s friends were looking for them.

You tried to steady the stream of emotions that were biting at your throat and prickling at your eyes, and you let out a cough to get the thickness out of your throat, as you saw Silas start to move around and walk slowly, inspecting the other positions of the mercenaries.

At the same time, you spotted what you assumed to be Colby approaching you.

Despite the fact that you have had talked to him on many occasions, Colby starting to take an awkward interest in you was starting to make you feel uneasy. Not that he was doing anything wrong, but the fact that he was _ trying _to be your friend but seemingly forgetting a specific part that made it seem like the real deal was unnerving you.

Colby was dressed up in in the same uniform as you were, with the same balaclava hiding all his features as the other mercenaries. The idea was that your identity would be protected if there ever was a raid from any other opposing force trying to stop MECH. The only thing left to do was to escape from them without your cover being blown - but that was solely up to your luck.

“What’s up, buttercup,” he starts, hefting a sniper rifle with a scope. 

“Oh, you know, nothing much. Just standing, looking pretty,” You start, letting out a little awkward laugh that’s only been picked up by lack of expression. You realised that you picked up on so much more when people’s faces were obscured, and it seemed to go both ways as Colby nodded slowly, as if he were processing a whole lot of information.

“So, what’s the deal, interacting with me twice in one day?” You ask, trying to act nonchalantly with a roll of your hand.

“I’m _ so _offended you’d say that! Can’t you see I’m trying to be your friend?” He asks with a tone of mock offence with a hand over his chest.

There was a deep unsettled feeling like there was something going on at bay, but you had neither the resources nor information to pull up a logical conclusion as to why he was acting so wooden and suspicious.

But the empty and desperate feeling of loneliness clawed at your throat and heart and you decided to just give in and deal with the hopefully minuscule repercussions down the back. 

Ignoring the small voice that was borderline subconscious saying _ Yeah, cos we all know how that turns out _, you smile forgetting momentarily he can’t see your expression and reply coolly with;

“Okay, I’ll allow it.” 

Colby isn’t given a chance to respond to your answer, as he spies Silas approaching you, and he gives you a salute before returning to his post, but by the look of how he walked back, he was in jovial spirits.

Silas walked by giving you an uninterested gaze before turning back at the console, where he watched Rilgar try to start up the Frankenstein's mech monster.

You turned briefly to look, watching Silas look over the issue when the sound of a jet seemed to come a little too close to the warehouse, enough to distract you and you turned to look towards the entry.

It did seem to alert some of the other guards, but after the initial sound and silence without a return flyby being executed overhead, an uneasy silence fell. There was a high possibility that there would have been heat seeking technology on that jet if it was property of the US Government or anyone else who had stolen equipment of that calibre, exposing this operation, and you would be forced to destroy or scatter what information MECH had so far.

But before you had time to really process the horror of that thought, the very next minute, your whole world seemed to flip inside out and upside down with the sound so completely alien you had no idea what it was. You could have sworn it was something powering up, and a looming shadow caught itself before the opening before some_ thing _ pushed apart the doors as easy as a walk in wardrobe with jagged fingers and walked, no, _ sashayed _its way inside.

It was so… impossibly tall, slate gray but with purple and black accents, and red deep eyes like embers in a dying fire. It’s long and pointed heels and what seemed like aesthetic wings had no sense of warmness in its being by just looking at it. 

A cold alien ready to eviscerate all you poor motherfuckers that had thought space organ trafficking was a good idea - even the eyes seemed poisonous. 

And it’s _ walk _.

_ Jesus Christ that walk _ was a high court crime, because a very deep unseated feeling that you had no idea existed in your very being seemed to bubble to the surface like tar, because whatever alien that was KNEW it was fucking sexy and it was showing itself to a bunch of organic life forms implying that _ yes I’m fucking here and asserting my dominance _.

You by this point worked on deep seated fear and reflex and instinctively brought the gun up close to your eye pointing it directly to it’s waist. The whole alien seemed to be made of metal, and the first thought was that if you so much as fired, this could have bounced back and killed you first before you even had the chance to deal any sort of damage to the behemoth.

And then you were confused, what was it here to do?

Was it here to kill?.To fuck? To stir the pot? All three options were highly likely and you weren’t exactly sure how to feel about it.

With each strut it seemed to cover more ground and you were at a brisk pace running backwards, trying to keep discreet as you tried to give distance between the titan and yourself. 

And when it started talking and _ laughing, _ it took you all your strength not to stack it like an idiot.

“You were the ones who turned Break Down into a pitiful science experiment?” It asked with barely contained laughter, and you swallowed thickly. The voice was nothing like you’ve ever heard in your whole entire life. Even SIlas’ dulcet tones could be compared to a shrieking gibbon with whatever the hell this was.

Something about the deep, gravely voice that’s quality that was borderline pornographic, was sending _ vibrations _through you, and you knew deep inside that this alien was built for every type of fuckery under the Sun.

“Didn’t learn from the experience much, did you?” He mocked, and god you didn’t care if he called you a fucking degenerate you were just so happy to be there and listen to something that quelled the shitty decisions and life quality you were having for a good 20 minutes just by it’s voice.

At once, the other scopes aligned and fell on the behemoth, and at it’s hesitation, you weren’t sure if the pause was simply to show it’s good will, or if it was genuinely threatened.

You zoned out listening to the quality, picking up ‘Decepticon’, (deciding to store it for future reference) as Silas eventually lowered his hand and you relinquish your aim as the alien started giving you a biology lesson on Cybertronians.

Your blood went ice cold at his explanation, like a highschooler guilty teepeeing the principal's house pretending to definitely not be guilty. Luckily you were ignored as Silas ever the diplomat conversed with the behemoth, never giving in and holding the operation on a tight leash.

“I am no stranger to ambition” It seemed to reply, whisper almost at Silas and if you were to get any more chills from his voice you’d be shaking violently where you stood.

But at least you were still lucid enough to remember his name that he announced with such smugness that you knew if you got to talk to him for more than 3 seconds you’d get on like a house on fire just by stoking it’s ego.

_ Starscream. _

And for the first time in a long time, you couldn't help but smile widely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HE'S!! HERE!!!!!!!!!
> 
> Prime is probably set two decades in the past but I still feel that Todrick Hall's 'Nails, Hair, Hips Heels' bass boosted plays when Starscream makes his appearance.  
also this chapter came out more hornier than intended asdasd


	4. And the emptiness fills

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you spot the ratchet and clank reference you get an internet cookie

The rest of the day proceeded as normally as seeing a three story tall alien could go. Starscream had only spoken directly to Silas to hash out the rest of the what could foreseeably be one sided partnership, Silas on a catwalk, arms crossed with a permanently disapproving air about him not even entertaining Starscream who was trying his hardest to remain cool and in control in his attempt to hold leverage in this conversation.

You had only seen this for three seconds and you turned away as much as you wanted to continue. Something about the site was almost too painful to watch.

You had continued at your station, the rest of the day providing uneventful providing you enough time to mull over the happenings of today. And the brief that soon followed hours after Starscream had left the base, where Silas led the meeting washed over you while you listened.

_ ...Remain vigilant… you were all hired for a reason. You haven’t failed me now - tolerate the Mech... _

The rest of the night and next morning had been uneventful, keeping the same shift as you were yesterday, you had been momentarily swapped for a patrol through the corridors and then back to a storeroom linked with the hanger through two massive sliding doors unlike the entrance that Starscream had made his first entrance. It was midday when you came back to relieve the mercenary standing at your post by the storage room.

You had missed the conversation that preceded your arrival, Starscream trying to leverage something with Silas. You only heard wisps of a conversation as your trudged through with an assault rifle strapped to you through the mammoth corridor, but had enough time to walk on the scene where Starscream turned to his left and boasted, to an unimpressed mercenary.

“Did you know, I single handedly killed an autobot,” He bragged, looking at his clawed fingers as if they were stiletto nails just buffed and shined at a salon. The merc - you couldn’t figure out who it was under the mask - turned immediately to his left and walked off the scene. 

It took all of your strength and willpower not just burst out into peals of laughter at a scene that might have well taken place at a bizzaro intergalactic cocktail party, and you barely suppressed laughter that was begging to be released when you took a barely audible breath and taking a step forward.

Starscream, had turned to look behind him at the noise, you belatedly realising that he could  _ hear  _ what your gentle exhale and you craned your head to look up to him. His metal face and coal red eyes zeroed into you to figure out who you were.

  
“Don’t worry about him. He …doesn’t have a personality.” You momentarily struggled to think of something, ANYTHING remotely normal to say. But you decided in the split second where the foundations of a relationship was to be placed, that normalcy long packed it's bags and waved goodbye the moment Starscream ripped the doors open to the hangar, so you decide to go along for the ride.

“Ah.” He says, and for a moment you’re worried that he’ll start talking in monosyllables to you since he discovered that he’s piqued someone else’s interest, instead of the other way around.

“Well… I’m on my rounds, but if you need someone to show you around ...feel free to give me a call,” You start, seeing that Starscream’s patience has run its course and he himself started to walk away from you.

“I don’t need the assistance of a run off the mill mercenary like yourself. I will decide, when I require your assistance, squishy.” He starts off with his hand clasping his wrist behind his back in the fashion of a person who thinks he runs the joint as he walks past you, and your lip curls under your mask in distaste.

The unresolved anger, preprogrammed ire and knee jerk reaction to rudeness that you thought had disappeared during your stint in retail has unfortunately reared its ugly head, and you start before you can even stop yourself.

“Hey asshole. It’s-’ You start, introducing yourself, “And you better change your tune real quick if you think you run the joint here, because you don’t. Silas does. I’m doing this because I’m  _ nice,  _ not because I have to, so go find someone else that cares. ” 

Starscream stops dead in his tracks in the middle of the wide storage room that leads to the main hanger. The sound doesn’t carry very well, so you know it’s only the two of you in this area. The patrol in the corridor won’t come for another five minutes, and you are truly alone.

You regret opening your mouth and letting out a frustration take its place - You knew you were in the wrong, and already dreading the thought of being reprimanded by Silas despite the very  _ very  _ clear instructions he gave at the end of yesterday.

_ Fuck my life,  _ you thought, and laughably, the Universe almost complied.

When Starscream started to walk towards you with those stupid high heel feet, you clenched your weapon and stood your ground as he walked closer, keeping eye contact with him as your head started to crane to look him square in the face.

Each step was sending tremors increasing in magnitude in the ground making it harder to stand straight the closer he got, and you forfeit all your previous thoughts about getting in trouble when surviving was the first prerogative as he cleared the entire floor in a few strides and leaned down on one knee. It’s only now that you can see how perfectly flawless he looked from up close, towering over you, the furious expression with his eyes in slits and his mouth in a perfect thin line looking like he would absolutely paint the entire room red with your blood if he were given the chance.

“You.,” Starscream started, pointing and  _ touching  _ a razor sharp obsidian finger right at your chest, with a warning that made the hair stand up on the back of your neck as his voice dropped down low, “will pay dearly for that. Speak out of line next time, and you won’t be so lucky to be breathing,” He moves his fingertip to your throat, the tip gracefully scraping onto bare skin through the fabric of your mask, before moving up and away from you in a fluid movement as if nothing had happened.

The moment he’s out of vision you almost fall to your knees and clutch at your racing heart which is trying to jump out of your chest. You take a moment to catch your breath and steady your shaking knees, before your hand slips underneath the beginning of your mask and you feel your throat. You expect with razor sharp claws he’s cut something, made you bleed, left a scratch. But you realise he was so gentle with the razor sharp finger threat that there was not even a mark felt by your fingertips.

You take a few more breaths to steady yourself trying to piece this information, and your brain is already replaying the events of what just happened in your head. The interest in an alien being has soured completely, and any likeability to the mech seemed to have shattered into glass and blown like sand into the wind, and you clench your eyes shut at the garbage fire of first introduction to encounters of the third kind you created. 

Before the deprecating, self hating pity party could really begin, your thoughts are derailed by a friendly call, and you turn around to see who you recognise by voice as Colby.

Colby walks over to you and cocks his head to the side as if to say ‘work’s shit ey?’ and he faces you properly.

Somehow seeing him seems to be a welcome relief of a balm.

“How’s it going?” He asks, and you shrug nonchalantly, pretending that you didn’t insult a being several times your size and possibly hundreds of times older than you that could absolutely take you on in any conceivable fight possible.   
“I’m alright, “ you lie, “Nothing interesting, just same old storage room slash hanger we got here,” You replied, trying to keep your voice level with the events that happened and Colby responds with a non commital noise.

Despite his initial awkwardness, you were starting to be very grateful you took the opportunity to accept his friendship, because you thnk you were certaintly going to go mad dealing with this kind of fuck up by yourself.

You still didn’t trust him completely, but he was pleasant enough to talk to to take your mind of the situation that burned your insides with shame and mortification.

“You know something,” He started unprompted, “I know that this mask thing is purely for hiding our faces in case something happens and we have to scatter, but some of the blueprints from Break Down, that other mech that we were operating on, have come to surface. Apparently they have facial recognition technology that nothing on Earth can literally compare it with. They can spot you miles away like a hawk,” He starts, and you take this information with you on board.

“Yeah…” You start, spotting Starscream conversing, or at least trying to converse with Silas for the fourth time that day.   
“Have you seen the robot up close yet?” He asks you, seeing where your vision is held.   
  


“Nah, not really,” You start, but decide to divulge a bit, “He seems kind of insufferable, though.” 

Colby lets out a laugh and pats you on the shoulder, “We sure won the lottery, haven’t we. But I guess this will just be a temporary thing until Silas gets what he wants,” He starts before straightening up.

“He always does.”

Something about the way Colby ends the sentence alongside a friendly goodbye that jarrs horribly in comparison to the mood - it sets you on edge.

For the most part, you couldn’t care less about the stupid robot, you tell yourself.

And it’s not a good lie. The rest of the day, falling to night as you go through your routine, your head is stuck on the line and the actions of the day.

The stupid robot that is miles away from home, learned how to communicate and had threatened you for your insolence. He could be ready to enslave the entire population of this world, maniacal or not - that was a terribly poor life choice you had made.

Throughout dinner with the other mercs, cleaning and checking equipment, preparing yourself for bed. The same thing plays over in your head.

The event takes over your entire mind, repelling sleep until the very early hours of the morning, and you wake up suddenly hours before you’re due to rise with the thought that you have to do something.

You can’t live like this, you think. The bitterness and loneliness and anger and probably self hatred have become a terrible cocktail of emotions where you barely open yourself up to anyone else.

The moment you do, you’re afraid the festering emotions have taken over the entire of your personality, and there’s nothing left.

That, and also the mercenary position thingy.

You feel sick at the realisation of this.You have to amend this mess. You have to do something. But something seems impossibly huge and overwhelming when there’s so much to fix, when you’ve been compartmentalising emotions, when you’ve been ignoring everything and pretending that everything is hunky dory - it feels impossible.

You try to dispel the thoughts as they cause your throat to clog up and hurt, and you get up earlier than you usually do.

The thought weighs on your chest, and thinking that the first step is to open yourself up a bit. Why not try to be more friendly to Colby? It’s a tiny but manageable stepping stone.

That way you can start to not feel like loneliness is clawing at your throat every second of the day.

You get up before the dawn breaks, and go take a shower while everything is still silent and dead to the world, and you take a jog around the outskirts of the compound after changing into a tracksuit.

You spent a good 10 minutes to yourself, immersing yourself in the lush verdant forest that surrounds the abandoned facility. It hides everything so perfectly in the dark, branches obfusticating the building.

The stress that has had you on edge seem to slip away slowly as you jog, foliage and small branches snapping underneath your moderate pace of a jog.

And just when you think you have a moment to put your rapidly failing mental health together, your eyes pick up on something else that’s long and lanky as the trees that surround the compound as you turn a corner.

_ Fuck, it’s Shitscream,.  _ You start, and immediately chide yourself for the name as you stop dead in your tracks, hoping he didn’t hear you.

Starscream is standing in a small clearing on the side of the base. The trees were cleared out, and he seemed to have his back turned, showing the minute movements of his wings as he’s muttering something in a language you’ve never heard before in your life.

He seems to be focused on something on the back of his wrist and you stay stock still. There’s a chance he hasn’t heard you, and remembering the first time he actually met you he could hear you let out a silent exhale you weren’t exactly sure if he was toying with you.

You didn’t want to do this. You  _ really  _ didn’t want to do this, but when asking the Universe for forgiveness and another chance, the chance comes up in ways that you really really really didn’t want to approach.

You decide to break the silence before Starscream realises you’re there.

With all the internal strength you can muster, the tired exhaustion of interacting and pretending everything is fine with everyone around you, you take a step forward.

  
“Starscream. Do you have a moment? I’d like to talk,” You start, bracing yourself from the venom he’d spit your way.

To your slight surprise, he seems to have jumped slightly at your voice, having been completely taken by surprise at the sudden appearance of you and he turned around wide eyed, like a small child playing with matches having been found by their mother.

No sooner than he did so you immediately regret not bringing your mask, because you only realise now that he recognised your voice, but hadn’t seen your face before, and his optics flickered back and forth on your face seemingly absorbing the visual information he can see.

The expression he wore to this revelation… was almost impossible to read - it seemed to be swamped under the surprise he currently wore at the fact you found him hanging around at the side of the compound.

He quickly flips away something on his wrist which looks suspiciously like a scanner of some sort that you’ve seen similar layouts of some of the programs on the base, and your suspicions of him doing something mildly transgressive only begin to mount with the what he addresses you by your name.

“What do you want,” he starts, seemingly getting on the naturally defensive with shaky legs, like he’s dived in being aggressive too late for you to pick up on the nervous edge he’s tried to hide.

“I came to apologise for calling you an asshole,” You start. You weren’t ready to apologise for you snapping back at him. He was rude, but you were also wrong on some circumstances, so you were willing enough to admit what you could.

He seems … taken aback at this. You almost feel like this is Starscream’s twin. You almost forgot about how he had been telling you how you wouldn’t be so lucky the second time you decide to insult him, and poking you with weaponised hands.

“As Silas has created a partnership with you, it’s only right I treat you with decency. I’m sorry,” You reply and let the reply hang in the air.

Starscream is still standing there awkwardly, and you’d bet that if he could sweat a bead of it would roll almost comically on the side of his temple.

“I don’t expect you to accept my apology,” You start, filling in the awkward silence, “I’ll.. leave you to your arm scanner thing then,” You start, before turning away from him, and you stop when he suddenly calls out “Wait.”

You turn around and you notice the tips of wings almost twitch, which you thought it was cute as you recognise it a nervous gesture,   
“Yes?”   
“You… saw that?”   
Your brain tries to think of anything else suspicious than the mech recently partnered with the company you work for, standing in the middle of a clearing right next to the compound and muttering to himself at 5 in the goddamn morning.

You take a look at him, and it's only now you realise that the question he asks holds more weight than with what the action you did. He could easily report you to Silas about the way you spoke to him the other day, and you’d get a slap on the wrist in comparison to.. Whatever he was doing. 

He would be pulled apart limb from limb if he was stealing technology from Silas.

And the expression he was wearing of slight worry, the way his faceplates stretched in a subtle way that it seemed to disappear when you looked at his face long enough like a magic eye puzzle.

You were aware he was up to something, but you couldn't help but interested in Starscream. His mannerisms, the way he tried to shoehorn his way to the top, establish his dominance over literally anyone who would take a micron of interest in him.

You found him… amusing and, you wanted to get to know him some more.

You’d decide to humour him.

“What are you talking about?. I’m just going on my jog in the morning, and I certainly haven’t been speaking to anyone, or seen anything. No idea what you mean.” You say with a wink and a smile.    
You suppose this was his way of accepting an apology, because his shifty demeanor changes entirely. His wings perk up, his body posture straightens, and he goes back to pretending that why yes of course I was doing nothing.

“Yes of course... “ He says to no one in particular, his voice taking that smooth quality once again.

You turned back where you came from, to your jog in the morning, feeling decidedly lighter than you had in a long time, and getting into the swing of the rest of your morning routine.

It wasn’t long until you had gotten back into base with the mercenaries. You had sat at the table with some of them as you were tucking into breakfast until Rilgar had approached you from behind.

“Silas would like to see you after you finish,” He started, and the shock of him appearing almost out of thin air made you almost inhale your porridge.

After the coughing fit had subsided, you continued to eat, wary of anyone appearing behind you. You processed this information as a rock weighed heavily in your stomach at what you;d h ave to go through in a moment.

You continue to eat in silence, slowly coming to terms.

If you wanted to change, you had to start being better, accepting faults and shortcomings and telling the truth on where you had failed. The stalwart feeling wasn't new, but you liked this new found confidence. After you had cleared up your plate to the makeshift kitchen, you made sure you had looked presentable, and walked down a small corridor where Silas' office was.

After rapping smartly on his door, third to the right, you waited for him to respond with a ‘come in’, and you entered the sparse office. The room was nothing more than an old desk from the 80's, with chairs to match. Filing cabinets that you doubted were to be filled were left half opened, and the artificial light almost made it look like it was an interrogation cell.

Silas turned to face you.

You being in the centre of his attention always made you nervous, especially without Rilgar standing behind him, for you to take the edge. He always seemed to read you like a hawk from the inside out.

“Sit,” He commanded, and you did as you were told.

“Why were you hired as a mercenary,” He asked, and the question threw you off a little, but you responded as calmly as you could.   
“Because the capacity at which I do my job reaches your standards,” YOu say, hoping you didn't come off as too cocky.   
He leans back in his chair, his gaze boring holes in you as you tried to keep looking at his face.

“It’s because you have a certain set of skills that the others don't have.”    
_Ouch?_ You think, not sure to be offended, but he continues, and you have a feeling you know where this is going with a feeling of trepidation.

“Your experience dealing with… conflict and unpredictable events has set the basis of your experience. Putting it mildly, you also have tact with these things,” He continues, turning to his left to monologue at you but stare at the wall,, and your brain suddenly starts imagining wild fantasies where Silas whips around and replies ‘just kidding, I’m just messing with you I know what you said to Starscream’.

“Thank you,” You respond numbly,

“But the key is subtlety… so. You will now accompany Starscream amongst our missions. Whenever he is in the base, you will accompany him, whenever we are on missions, or if he needs a reason to take you scouting for energy sources for himself or projects, you will accompany him,” He starts, and your world spins around your head as your mouth opens and closes trying to look normal.

“We have sophisticated technology that would help us find these sources, however we don’t want this falling into his hands,” Silas continued.

“I want you to keep an eye on him. Tell me if he’s… up to something. I know the type he is… the moment you put your guard down, he’ll stick a knife in your back.” Silas replied, and he turned back to you, which at this point you were fortunate enough to compose yourself quickly to not look like a fish out of water.

“Any questions?” He asks and you shake your head.   
“No sir, I understand.” You reply, being fortunate enough to hear Silas speak more than a couple of words.   
A small smile ghosts on his scarred and handsome face before his expression is serious, and h nods his head.   
  


“Dismissed,” he says, leaving with you to deal with the myriad of emotions plaguing your entire mind and body as you leave his office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was... really hard to write but I think turned out okish
> 
> yay! reader made a friend!!! sort of
> 
> Silas; you have so much tact when dealing with stressful situations according to your resume  
reader trying not to have a conniption at starscream being starscream: haha.... ye


	5. {update - 29/8/19}

Hey everyone,

In my slapdash attempt to write the hottest starscream reader fic i only realised now about other plot elements that could have been developed further and made the story more interesting

So i’m placing this fic on hiatus while I write up a different Ss/Reader fic but with similar plot themes  
I’m excited to write it : >

I’ll see how this one works out but I do want to finish it one day - think of this sort of as an experiment fic

Thanks so much for the people that left kudos, comments and bookmarks, your words and likes means a lot to me

💖💖💖

-stainlesssteelsexappeal


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